Sunday, October 28, 2012

Open Letter to My Wife

Dear Leena,

Simple. I need your help.

While I know you'll deny both statements, but you're so thin and I'm awfully chubby. And I need your help to deal with it.

I liked it when you first arrived in the U.S. a few months ago, after we were apart for so long waiting on your green card, and you said "wow, you've lost weight." I felt great when you said that. I know I wasn't even close to thin then, but I was certainly less fat than I am now.

It wasn't easy losing the weight I'd lost, but it was a lot easier doing it alone than it is now that you're here with me. Don't get me wrong, I'm very, very happy you're here with me, but we need to change some things if you're ever going to tell me the same thing again.

By myself I ate less, and I ate more of what I wanted to and I avoided a lot more temptation. I lived by a few loose rules related to food. I didn't order much greasy, oily food, and not large quantities of it. I only ate pizza at restaurants where I could get a small amount, never a whole pizza. I often didn't bother with dinner at all if I didn't really feel like it. And I walked a whole lot on the weekends...

Now that you're here, though, we're keeping a lot more food in the kitchen. And you know I can't resist some of the temptations, especially when you leave a container of something delicious, still warm, on the countertop.

There's a few things we can do that won't have a great effect on your enjoyment of great food here in New York City...

When you ask if I want salad for dinner and I say I do, and then you buy greasy fried Chinese food for yourself, don't leave it on the counter, put it in the fridge so it's far less tempting for me (and at the back, I might not even see it!). And don't ask me over and over "are you sure you don't want chicken? It's really good!"

When we got out for pizza, just because we can eat a large pizza, that doesn't mean we should... We can get a smaller one and you can eat your fill, and I'll eat what I think is more appropriate for me without overeating.

When you offer me Doritos or potato chips and I say "no, thank you," please respect that "no means no" and doesn't mean "try again and again." At some point, it because more difficult, especially when you make disappointed faces and sounds, for me to keep turning down something delicious that I know is bad for me. You often make it look like I'm hurting you by turning down your offer, which hurts me more immediately than the longer term effects of chowing down half a bag of greasy, salty chips.

I'm getting uncomfortable with my expanding gut, I'm getting out of breath walking up the steps or bending down to put my socks on.